Solid Advice
by MasterMillerLITE
Summary: When Otacon is preparing to go out on a date, Snake provides a few words of wisdom only a friend can give. Set after MGS2, but years before MGS4.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This story takes place after MGS2 but several years before MGS4. There aren't any spoilers (other than Snake getting old and Otacon's wardrobe) so do not be afraid to read onward. I don't think it's ever explicitly said that Otacon and Snake live in an apartment, though my memory might be faulty, but such a setting is usually depicted as their home around the events of MGS2. The whole lack of money bit (and the apartment really) was merely a plot convenience.

- - - - - -

Otacon was anything but a ladies' man all things considered. Not that he was unattractive or repulsive in any way, just unlucky. It sort of came with the territory of being an otaku (or a former one, though he would say so rather unconvincingly) and part of an underground group that frequently subverted governments and organizations across the world. The two combined sort of makes one socially reclusive since most women are not terribly interested in the newest line of battle mech figurines while the prospect of being whacked by a hired assassin turned dating into a difficult prospect. Still, Otacon wanted to lead something resembling a "normal" life, or at least as normal as a life shared with legendary mercenary can be. Otacon knew bringing someone back to a small apartment inhabited by Solid Snake made things awfully tricky.

Despite all these relatively "minor" complications, Otacon found a way to persevere. He managed to open up a low-key tech shop that permitted the creator of Metal Gear REX to embark on thrilling endeavors such as fixing keyboards, reformatting hard drives, and getting berated by elderly people who did not know how to set their VCR clocks. VCRs? Otacon wondered how many people still lived in the Stone Age.

The job provided some much needed cash as destroying bipedal robots was not an official occupation. The Patriots' tightening grip likewise crippled Philanthropy's monetary base. And although removing a bunch of viruses from some guy's computer because he spent too much time browsing for porn was mundane compared to watching Snake blow up walking death mobiles, Otacon eventually found the benefits of being part of the routine cycle.

A particular case relating to today's story emerged just a few days ago when Otacon, getting ready to close up shop, ended up staying several hours late to rescue several critical files for a young lady whose computer had died on her. Otacon first thought of it merely as a generous act for someone in trouble, but he was unprepared when the woman in question, a cute brunette named Anne, offered to go on a date with the otherwise reclusive programmer as thanks for taking all the trouble to help her.

For Otacon, it was sort of like being Snake in so much as he went out of his way to help others selflessly and got the girl (who, in this mission, lived) in the process. Okay, so retrieving a few computer files paled in comparison to averting a nuclear holocaust… and Snake's history with women was not exactly exemplary… The sound of Meryl's goodbye slap to Snake occasionally echoed through the air even after all these years.

"Oh boy…"

That placed Otacon in the position he found himself in now: in front of the bathroom mirror, staring down his presentable yet still inherently awkward form. He attempted to instill courage into himself, but only managed meagerly to mutter while fixing his glasses. Otacon had taken the time to clean up so he could be presentable. Since his wardrobe was rather limited, and the "GUNDAM 4 LIFE" t-shirt he wore when he first met Anne did not exactly scream romance, Otacon sided with the black turtleneck sweater he recently bought with his extra earnings along with a pair of tan slacks. Taking in his newest attire, Otacon got the strange feeling that these clothes in particular would see a great deal of future use.

Somehow, those blasted sneakers found their way into the whole thing.

"Okay, Hal." Otacon nodded to himself, fixing his glasses once more. "Time to go."

With some sort of newfound confidence, Otacon strode out of the bathroom and through the kitchen which led into the small living room which went into the hallway that would take him to the elevator that would enable him to go to the downstairs lobby which gave access to the street below. Simple enough, right? For the first time in years—maybe even his entire life—everything felt so straightforward, without strings attached. Finally, he began to discard his usual self-consciousness like a snake shedding its old skin.

"Where are _you_ going?"

But snakes always keep their old markings.

"Uh…" Otacon stammered, immediately losing his once growing confidence. He mentally smacked himself for neglecting to tell his partner in crime and roommate about his plans for the evening. "I, uh, was just going out…"

Snake sat at the small kitchen table eating some Cheerios. He was prepping himself for a mission in the Far East which meant he began to sleep and wake at strange hours to neutralize the jet lag. Otacon had no idea whether or not that was something Snake learned in his formal training, but it would not have surprised him.

"Since when do you go out on Friday nights? You always stay up watching those crazy cartoons until all hours."

"Animes, Snake."

"I thought you said you weren't into that stuff anymore," Snake commented, his voice grainier than usual. He took a large bite out of his cereal.

Otacon shook his head, moving awkwardly in place as though he could not decide whether to stand his ground or simply run out the door. "Well, uh, tonight's sort of different anyway. I have to meet someone soon."

Snake glanced up from his bowl incredulously. "Meet someone?"

"Yeah," Otacon's voice drifted off into uncertainty. "You know. Nothing fancy. Just a get together."

"Who is it? Mei Ling?"

"No, no. Not her." Once more Otacon began to fidget. "She's out on the coast, remember?"

"Urrgh." Snake emitted one of his trademark grunts of annoyance. He reached for a cigarette while continuing to speak. "Then who is it, Otacon? Jack? Some informant?"

"I… No, Snake. Just someone I met. It doesn't have to do with Metal Gear or Liquid or anything like that…"

Snake spoke while lighting his fresh cigarette and anointing it with a quick drag. "Who then?"

Otacon was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the questions prying into his private affairs, especially when the interrogator was a super soldier in his boxers taking a smoke while eating breakfast at 7:43 PM. This was not needed.

"J-just some woman I met a few days ago while at work." The programmer fixed his glasses once more. "I met her at that little tech shop I opened when our funds started to dry up. She needed some help with something and afterward she… well, she asked me out to dinner."

"A date, huh?" As Snake leaned back in his chair, blowing out a slow stream of smoke, Otacon caught just the glimpse of a smirk on his old friend's face. "I can't say I remember you being out there regularly with the ladies. Is she cute?"

Otacon blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"You heard me."

"Well… yeah, she is. She's not too much younger than me, I think."

"What's her name?"

"Anne," Otacon replied, both curious and cautious as to why Snake was suddenly so interested in his personal affairs.

"Anne?" Snake took another puff on his cigarette and tilted his head upward in thought. "Brunette, right? Short hair. Wears a small silver necklace. Right-handed. Taps her chin with her left pointer finger rapidly when confused. Did I get all of it?"

Otacon's jaw dropped for a moment. He quickly went through a mental checklist and found each point Snake mentioned was right on the money. While Snake was superb at digging up all sorts of information, Otacon found that he was growing slightly wary—and annoyed—with his good friend.

"Snake, how did you know all of that?"

The legendary soldier sat back up and flicked some ashes off his cigarette into the ashtray. "Lucky guesses."

"No way, Snake!" Otacon moved over to the small table where Snake was sitting and placed a hand down on it. "You must've been there or something! There's no way you could have just guessed at all of it."

Snake, after taking a sweet drag from his cigarette, slowly looked up toward Otacon. "If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me."

"I need an answer, Snake! Are you snooping around my personal life?"

"No," Snake answered instantly. He was once again moving back to lean in his chair, though he emitted a small grunt and rubbed his lower back with his free hand. "Urgh… I feel like an old man right now…"

"Snake!" Otacon moved over and stood over his colleague. "I have to know! I can't go on with this wondering whether or not you're spying on me or something!"

"Cut it out with the theatrics, Otacon. I'm not spying on you."

"Then how did you know?!" the programmer exclaimed with a strong hint of desperation.

"Well," Snake nonchalantly moved to snuff out his cigarette, "let's just say Anne 'gets around.'"

"What?!"

"Grand Central Station is cleaner and less frequented than she is."

"How can you say that about her?!" Otacon sounded more as though he were whining as opposed to enraged. "You don't know her!"

Snake gave Otacon a short look before going back to work on his now soggy Cheerios. "Neither do you, Otacon."

"But she's really sweet! She's not that type of girl!"

The aging mercenary took a moment to finish off his current spoonful. "That woman… isn't as sweet as you think. Besides, the sweet ones are always the most dangerous. They lure you into a false sense of security before disemboweling you. That's how it is out there, Otacon—in the real world."

"I'm no kid, Snake! I'm a pretty good judge of character." Otacon walked over to the sink, continuing to speak with his back turned to Snake, something most people in their right mind would never do. "I don't know where you got your info, but you're wrong. I know that."

"Say what you will, but you're better off sticking your dick in a rat hole."

Otacon whipped around, his eyes wide in shock. "Snake! That's really low!"

Snake shook his head slowly. A groan of disappointment rumbled in his throat. "I told you that you wouldn't believe me."

"I don't know what you have against Anne, Snake, but you're completely out of line when it comes to her."

"Just wanted to give you fair warning, Otacon."

"I can't believe you would say things like that about someone." Otacon leaned back over the sink once more, suddenly struck with a sense of sorrow. "There could be a bunch of people out there spreading lies about her and she might never know. Or maybe she does and she's being shunned by everyone. There could be no one for her to turn to now. I know what that's like…"

The sound of Snake slurping up some milk off his spoon rippled throughout the small kitchen. Otacon managed to ignore it, thinking of his date whose name had apparently been made synonymous with "whore." Nobody deserved to be placed into that caste. Maybe Anne had even made some mistakes in her youth, thus garnering such a reputation, yet that did not permit people—even Snake—to look down on her as though she were trash.

Otacon lightly slapped his hands against the edge of the counter. Snake could keep all his snarky remarks and wild accusations to himself. Tonight, Anne, mistreated and thrown to the wayside, would now get the respect she had a right to receive. Hal Emmerich would be sure of that.

As Otacon grabbed his jacket and moved for the front door, Snake called out. "Don't blame me when a doctor tells you your balls will fall off in two weeks."

A slamming door cut off Snake's final words. The aging warrior chuckled briefly to himself before falling victim to a short bought of coughing. In spite of this, he moved in for another cigarette, a feeling of satisfaction temporarily doing away with the various pains all across his body.

"Next time, Hal, don't leave your security discs inside the DVD player."

Snake grinned with cigarette firmly embedded in his mouth. Sometimes a little kick in the ass was all one needed to make the perfect date.


End file.
